


Conflicted

by what_a_dork_fish



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: ABO, Hartwin, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5719843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first ABO fic, a prompt from some friends on tumblr. Original prompt was, "Omega Harry has always fallen for bears. Alpha Eggsy is intimidated."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conflicted

His heart is racing and he can’t stay still. He tugs his cuffs and jacket; he shuffles his feet; he flexes his fingers. He doesn’t look over.

The bar is full of people, mostly beta, some alpha like him, and the rest—damn it, the pheromones would make him half-crazed, if he weren’t imprinted. He hadn’t known there were this many omega in London. Although, since this is the only bar he’s seen that caters specifically to them, that’s not much of a surprise that he hadn’t noticed.

But he doesn’t care, not even about the ones that give him appreciative glances and come-hither looks. There’s only one that he wants—it’s like an obscure ache in his chest, and a bit lower—and he’s too afraid to say anything.

“There’s too much noise,” Harry states, making him jump a little. “I can’t hear a bloody thing.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, me neither.” He glances at Harry standing beside him and away, to where their target is sitting. He can smell them, a little; but he’s distracted by Harry. Very distracted.

“Let’s—“

An alpha approaches, grinning at Harry. Harry doesn’t seem to notice, but _he_ does, snapping to attention, a warning snarl already twisting his lip. He knows exactly what they want, and they’re not getting it. Not from his Harry.

Harry sees his expression, and turns to see the approaching offer. Before they can even begin to say anything, Harry jerks his thumb at Eggsy and says, “I’m with him.”

The other stops, and stares at Eggsy for a moment. Then they look at Harry again and ask, “You sure he’s your type?”

“It’s none of your fuckin’ business,” Eggsy snarls, anger welling up in his chest even as the words cut his confidence down again. He _knows_ he’s not Harry’s type. He isn’t anywhere _near_ what he usually likes. But that doesn’t matter, Harry is _his_ , and not free for casual fucking, so go away and find your own omega.

Harry sighs, grabs Eggsy’s elbow, and starts to pull him to the door with a casual, “You know, it is very late, and we do have work tomorrow. Perhaps we should leave.”

Eggsy opens his mouth to protest, but he doesn’t really want to get in a fight, even if it is to protect his Harry. He’s off his game. It wouldn’t be right to snap that person’s neck for looking at Harry like that.

Funny, usually he notices the genders of the people around him. Right now, he couldn’t care less.

They walk down the pavement quietly. Harry lets go of his elbow, which makes him shiver miserably. Mist is rising, enveloping everything in blue-grey haze, until he can barely see three meters in front of him. He keeps his ears and nose alert, and slowly veers closer and closer to Harry. He can’t help it, his possessive urges have been awakened, and he wants to go home, type or not—

That thought dampens his enthusiasm. He’s still not sure. He knows exactly what Harry likes, because Merlin gave him a list of Harry’s former lovers (“I’ve been waiting twenty years for this moment,” Merlin had said with satisfaction when he’d asked, “Now go and blackmail the shit out of him.”), and he’s not sure he can give what they had.

What are they called? ‘Bears’? Basically men who were what most people expected of an alpha. He isn’t sure he has that in him. Oh, he certainly _feels_ bigger and stronger and like he’s enough, but what if he isn’t? He doesn’t want to be a disappointment.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Harry says suddenly, making Eggsy jump.

“Not thinking much,” he replies. Except maybe about how great it would be to get on top of Harry _right friggin’ now_. “You?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry answers.

“Then why’d you ask?”

“You were frowning again.”

Eggsy looks away immediately. He promised not to do that around Harry; and now look what’s happened.

Harry sighs, and stops walking. Eggsy continues two steps before realizing, then whirls around, opening his mouth to—say something, anything, he can’t think what. Harry places one finger very gently over Eggsy’s mouth, and he says nothing. He does, however, give the finger a little lick. He doesn’t really mean to, he just does it. Harry shivers, though his expression remains the same, and Eggsy grins.

“You know what time of the year it is, yes?” Harry asks very casually.

“Yes,” Eggsy replies around the finger on his lips. His heart begins to beat a little faster, and his breath comes a little quicker. This close, it’s even more powerful, and he suddenly doesn’t care what ‘type’ Harry likes. He’s Eggsy’s Harry; ‘ _My_ Harry,’ he thinks to himself fiercely, ‘ _My_ Harry, _my_ toy, my mate, my love—‘

Harry takes his hand away and kisses Eggsy very gently. Eggsy bears this for one breath, but it’s not good enough, so he grabs Harry’s lapel and kisses back hard. This results in Harry being pinned to the wall of the alley and Eggsy doing his best to resist the urge to tear off their clothes. The urge is not helped by the way Harry keeps touching him, sliding down waistbands and up under hems, pulling him so close he can hardly breathe, and it’s all-consuming, he’s half gone, kissing Harry’s mouth jaw neck chest—

And then the car arrives, and reality comes back rolling like thunder.

~~~\0/~~~

Harry would be angry, except he simply cannot be angry at Eggsy.

The thrill of near-sex in an alley faded as soon as the car arrived and Eggsy almost leapt back, looking startled and guilty and hungry. Now they are riding home, and while Eggsy does not seem to mind minor touches, like holding hands and kissing (the inside of the taxi is dark enough that Harry doesn’t feel his usual squeamishness), he does do most of the pulling away, and he does not speak much. This is _maddening_. He’s doing it on purpose, Harry knows it. It’s a delicious, excited frustration, though, because they have never kissed before tonight, and it appears Eggsy has finally gotten over his silly notion that he’s not good enough.

Harry goes to kiss him again and Eggsy turns his head away. So Harry kisses his neck, because he really doesn’t want to stop. Spring is in the air, after all, and Harry is starving for sex.

He’s not sure how to manipulate Eggsy into being what Harry is used to, though. He’s always preferred more… well, ‘dominating’ men, he supposes. And he knows Eggsy isn’t particularly dominating. It’s mostly that he’s short and cute instead of tall and dangerous like most of the alphas Harry has been with. It isn’t just that though, but Harry can’t quite put his finger on _what_ …

He can put his fingers on other things, though, and make Eggsy gasp.

Being in heat is truly frustrating when your bond-mate won’t stop teasing. Eggsy isn’t frowning anymore, at least; Harry hates it when he frowns. It makes his heart hurt, and there is no room for hurt right now. But that sly grin is in no way fair, because he _must_ know what it does to Harry.

When they are home and have climbed out of the taxi, they’re both panting and impatient. Harry’s hands are shaking, he can barely get the key in the lock; but maybe that’s also because Eggsy is hugging him from behind and Harry can feel his erection right where he most wants it. No, not yet, not yet.

Inside is dark and cold, but there’s light in Eggsy’s smile and warmth in his kisses and embrace. Even if he does have to look down for kisses instead of up. His last lover had been two inches taller than him, so it feels odd to be the taller one in this relationship.

But it’s Eggsy. Height doesn’t matter when it’s Eggsy.

They make it upstairs, and Eggsy actually _throws_ Harry on the bed, which is absolutely what he wants, and climbs up on the bed, hovering over Harry on his hands and knees—and then he freezes, staring down at Harry.

“…Well?”

“Um…”

Harry tries to pull him down for a kiss, but Eggsy ducks away and instead presses his face against Harry’s chest.

“What?” Harry demands crossly, stroking his hair gently. “Are you still…?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy mumbles.

Harry sighs and kisses the top of his head. “You know I don’t care.”

“I know.”

“Would it make you feel better if we—“

“No.” Eggsy’s fingers dig into him, hooking on the sides of his shirt; Harry bites the inside of his lip to stifle any noises. “You’re mine. _Mine_. I’m not sharing you.” Eggsy bites Harry’s tie and pulls sharply. “ _My_ Harry,” he mutters around a mouthful of fabric.

Harry’s hands are still shaking. He manages to unknot his tie, and then he stops with a tiny gasp as Eggsy yanks open his shirt, nuzzling his chest—“You have a piercing,” the younger man notes absently, vaguely surprised.

“It was a dare,” Harry mutters. “Let’s—move on. Please.”

“I like it.” Eggsy flicks it with his tongue. “Don’t suit you. But I like it.”

“Thank you, but can we—“

“Uh-uh.” Eggsy seems to have fixated on the little metal bar, and it’s making Harry squirm a little and he’s impatient for more more more, but he doesn’t want to rush or annoy Eggsy. Maybe if he returns the favor… he slides his hands up under Eggsy’s shirt, and as soon his fingertips brush his target, Eggsy shudders and mumbles, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—‘cos—oh, hell, I don’t know.”

Harry can’t stop a smirk. “I’ll stop if you fuck me,” he offers.

Eggsy’s eyes focus on Harry’s, and a curious range of emotions passes over his face. Surprised, uncertain, afraid, determined, possessive. “I’m gonna fuck you anyway,” he growls, and yanks down Harry’s pants. “So don’t stop.”


End file.
